Through The Years
by sinfullysarcastic
Summary: 'Sometimes, she thinks of Mick Campbell. Sometimes, she stays up long nights thinking of the aftereffect if she had just told him she liked him. Sometimes, she insults herself for being a coward because it's undeniable she's had so many chances. She's known him since age twelve, when he first came to the house. A good solid six years she had of chances. ' Micktricia. Oneshot.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own House of Anubis**.

Sometimes, Patricia Williamson reflects.

Sometimes, she does some deep thinking that anyone else would deem uncharacteristic but she herself classifies as befitting. This deep thinking usually occurs at night just like everyone else's, when Mara's gentle snores fill the room. Sometimes, she thinks about Eddie or Piper or her mother or just _life _in general.

Sometimes, she thinks of Mick Campbell. Sometimes, she stays up long nights thinking of the aftereffect if she had just _told _him she liked him. Sometimes, she insults herself for being a coward because it's undeniable she's had so many chances. She's known him since age twelve, when he first came to the house. A good solid six years she had of chances.

* * *

_when they are twelve_

She hates him.

"I'm Mick," he says, outstretching a hand to her, beaming wildly as if he's actually _glad _he's here. But she's already passed her judgment, just by looking at his bulging muscles to his charming smile. The typical jock, the one she tends to hate. He's not changing her mind with a pair of pretty blue eyes and a nice gesture.

When she doesn't say anything in return, Mick retracts his hand and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. No one's in the foyer beside them, considering she's the first one to greet him. Maybe he'll go away if she scares him well enough. "Do you _talk_?"

"Not to you," she replies, crossing her arms, and congratulating herself as she sees a flicker of annoyance pass over his face.

"_Why_?" he asks, holding the football closer to his chest. "You don't even know me."

"I know enough," she retorts, pleased as Mick furrows his eyebrows in confusions. "Not the sharpest? Don't worry, you can't be worse than Amber." And as if on cue, the blonde skips in, humming.

"Patricia, Trudy's called you like, a _billion _times- _oh_. Hi, I'm Amber," she begins twirling a strand of hair and sticks out her hand. He looks almost happy to find someone nice in this place, if not a little mesmerized by her beauty. Patricia rolls her eyes as Mick introduces himself and asks Amber "what's _your _name?" He's obviously flirting and he's definitely lived up to his stereotype, proving her right.

"Knew it," she mutters as she walks away, hands stuffed in her pockets.

Mick doesn't even notice she left.

* * *

_when they are thirteen_

She's a teenager now- she has a _reason _to be moody and irrational. Mick doesn't seem to understand that though- he doesn't seem to understand _anything _actually.

"I can't get this," he practically screams, and it's definitely a change. Mick's always known as calm, cool, relaxed. But school really gets to him, and it's no wonder, she thinks. He's not the brightest.

"It's not hard," she snorts, leaning back on the couch. She's already finished her homework- sure, it was a _bit _challenging but it didn't make her scream like Mick.

"Shut it, Williamson," he sneers, twirling the pencil in his fingers before sighing. "_How _are you _even _supposed to do this?"

She rolls her eyes but takes pity on him- or maybe she just wants him to shut up- and grabs the pencil from her, sliding over the paper so that it rests in front of her. She bites her bottom lip- she's done this problem on her own homework and is quick to recollect exactly how.

"See, you have to subtract the 'x' here and there, and then divide that by that," she points to the problem and then hands the pencil back to Mick, who looks like one of those confused monkeys in a zoo. "See? The answer is three."

"And when'd you become a nerd?" he scowls, but writes it down anyway. She mimics his face and leans back on the couch once more.

"Fine, so I take it you don't need my help?" she raises an eyebrow, feeling superior, and is satisfied when she sees him juggling his options.

"Fine, could you, I don't know, _help _me?"

"What's the magic word?" she sings, relishing that she's got him right where she wants him.

"_Please_," he forces it out of himself and she laughs before grabbing the pencil once more and starting to explain the process to find the answer. Mick looks up in surprise as he _slowly_, too slowly, starts understanding, able to figure out the last question on his own. He beams and she finds herself smiling too- okay, so _maybe _that smile is cute, _maybe _she sees what Amber sees in him.

Mick looks up before capturing her in a hug, squeezing her so tight she's sure she can't breathe. He lets go quickly and grins, "I _did _it! I _actually _did it!"

She's about to smile too but stops herself. She's _not _Amber. She's Patricia, and if everyone expects her to be mean, then she would have to live up to that. "Don't get a big head. You're still an idiot," she sneers before standing up and leaving the room.

The last thing she sees is his diminishing smile.

She's not sure why she's so disappointed with this ending.

* * *

_when they were fourteen_

Amber and Mick have started dating, which everyone saw coming. She's not sure why she's so unsettled by that- they're both dumb, they'd do well together. So _why _does she feel like throwing up whenever they walk in a room together? She tells herself it's because of all the PDA, but honestly, even that lie has started wearing off. They don't even kiss much.

Mick and she…they're friends, in a way. They play ball together, because Fabian stinks at sports and Jerome and Alfie are too busy to care. Right now, she kicks the ball over to him, and he does some fancy trick before it ends back up at her feet.

"So, you and Amber, huh?"

"Yeah," a goofy grin crosses her face. "She's great, isn't she?"

"She's a bit dumb," she rolls her eyes before kicking the ball back. Maybe it's wrong to say that, but Mick just shrugs, unable to disagree.

"But she's pretty, don't you think? Sure, she's not the sharpest, but does that really matter? She's a great person, you two would be good friends."

Ouch.

It's been a while since she finally gave into her feelings, admitting to herself that she just may be crushing on _the _Mick Campbell. The _taken _Mick Campbell. The stereotypical jock, the one she was supposed to hate.

Why doesn't she hate him?

"Yeah," Patricia whispers, voice a ghost in the wind.

"Williamson? The ball?"

"Right, sorry."

* * *

_when they were fifteen_

"He's a _heartbreaker_, Mara," she advises, and Mara gasps.

"He is _not_, he's _sweet _and _kind _and caring!"

She snorts, looking over to Amber and Mick, and then back at Mara. She rolls her eyes- wasn't Mara supposed to be the smart one here? How could she not see it?

"And besides," Mara continues, casting a glance at the blonde. "How would _you _know? He's never broken _your _heart." And she stomps away indignantly, leaving a reminiscent Patricia in her wake. She pushes down the lump in her throat, unsure if she should whisper or scream _yes he has_.

It's not Mick's fault that she never revealed her feelings. Not at all. But she feels resentful- they don't play ball together anymore, they hardly interact. That _tiny _crush was _still _there, but how could she do that to Amber? To Mara? What a horrible friend she would be.

But at the end of the day, it wasn't even about friendship.

It was about the fact that Patricia Williamson was scared.

Because there was no way Mick would ever return her feelings anyway, and she'd by making a fool of herself by telling him. All he would do is scratch the back of his neck and dart his eyes away, and then she would leave, heartbroken and embarrassed.

It was better just to be heartbroken.

* * *

_when they were sixteen_

Mick's gone to Australia and they share their _first _hug that day. They share their _last _hug that day, and she resists the urge to keep him there and hold him tight.

"I'll come back and visit, Williamson," he punches her shoulder playfully as they separate and she gives him a teasing smile.

"Who says I want you to?" she replies, making him laugh. How she _loves _that laugh that she will never hear this up close ever again.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone, I just know it," Mick assures, stepping into the cab and giving her a final wink. "Bye, Williamson."

It's only when he's down the road that Patricia can choke out her own goodbye.

* * *

_when they were seventeen_

"Hey," she says as soon as Mara leaves, staring into the webcam eagerly and giving a small wave. Mara and Mick have broken up, but she still calls sometimes just to check up on him. Mick still makes Patricia feel tingly, which is wrong, because she's dating Eddie and the only person who should be making her feel like this is him.

"Hi, Williamson," he grins. "Haven't seen you in a while. How's that Eddie guy doing?"

She tries to hide her disappointment that they've turned the topic around to her boyfriend, but answered nevertheless. "He's great."

"Treating you well, yeah?"

"The best."

"Good," Mick says softly, gazing at her earnestly, almost wistfully. "You deserve the best." But he disconnects so quickly that she can't even question what he means, left with her own unanswered questions.

* * *

_when they are eighteen_

They don't talk now.

Haven't in a while.

She misses him, really. That's why she stays up that night, recounting the memories they've shared, the footballs they've kicked, the homework they've completed together.

But maybe this was all they were meant to be. She checks his ChumChatter once more- relationship status says 'in a relationship' just like hers. But not in a relationship _together_.

She doesn't know why she's so disappointed at this ending.


End file.
